The Ginko Riots
by Fairytale Warrior
Summary: When Hiro agreed to join a team of SFIT students traveling to Europe to spend a month at an infamous robotics school for the gifted, he'd never thought he'd get caught up in a civilian war made of protesters and rioters against the Japanese. It's been two years and Tadashi wasn't prepared to wake up from a coma or to see his little brother fighting for his life on a TV screen. AU
1. Becoming A Heroic Icon

_Warning: While I mean no offense as I write any part of this story I realize that despite my efforts it may come across as unpleasant. If you are sensitive to such things, you might not want to give this story a go. :) Otherwise, I hope those of you that chose to take a peek at what I am writing can enjoy it._

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><p>-The Ginko Riots-<p>

-Chapter 1 –

-Becoming a Heroic Icon-

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><p>Hiro had stared down the barrel of a gun before.<p>

He had stared down the barrels of _multiple _guns before and since becoming a hero in the San Fransokyo community 2 years ago he'd faced down much larger constructs.

But he hadn't stood against an entire army like this before; with nothing but the grocery bag under his arm, the utilitarian clothes on his back, and an umbrella in his hand.

"Get out of the way, you dirty Ginko!" an English soldier shouted above the pour of rain. He was popped out from the hatch of a large tank, flanked by men with machine guns, armed vehicles, foot soldiers, and- guess what?

More tanks.

Hiro was outnumbered, out-gunned, and out of his mind but the whimpering behind him steadied his feet.

He was tired.

He was tired of being tired.

He was tired of being afraid to learn and to enjoy learning.

He was tired of having to carry a Taser in his pocket.

He was tired of having to wear shoes with thrusters hidden in the heels- constantly ready for a quick escape from the rioters.

They said the British soldiers had been brought in to satiate the protests and tame the aggression that flooded the streets of England.

They never said they were there to protect the Japanese threatened by them.

The helmeted man turned and grabbed a walkie-talkie from his hip, speaking into it. Above the downpour and with the length of distance between them it was impossible for Hiro to hear him.

"Mark!"

They never said the soldiers wouldn't shoot a ginko.

"Fire!"

The umbrella was shot out of his grip. It's plastic cover was riddled with holes and thrown back, the metal bar in his hand snapped and cut into his flesh as it flew from his grip. Blood rolled down his wet skin, oozing from the cut across his palm. Diluted by the water it soon became pink.

But Hiro still didn't move.

Instead, he listened to the terrified screams from behind him and tried to picture the nuns protecting the children without injury.

When he didn't move he thought he heard the commander curse and a part of him thanked some higher power that this was being filmed on live television. If it wasn't they would have blown him up by now.

"_Kid!" _the man shouted, sounding very short on patience, "get out of the way- do you even understand English?!"

Hiro didn't reply. He simply raised his head higher, _I will die for these people if I have to. _

"For the love of the Queen- someone get me a translator!"

But no-one moved because, as Hiro knew, they didn't have one. This time he did hear the rain soaked figure give his order to fire a warning shot. The beating blades of a helicopter flying above caught the clipped bang and the very unmoved Japanese-American standing relatively unharmed in the middle of the intersection. Rain was quickly soaking through Hiro's clothes and he thought heard one of the sisters call to him, he thought he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

And yet he remained where he was. His gaze as cold and unwavering as permafrost Hiro wondered how long he would have to stand here before a solution was found.

Now the commander was talking with someone on his walkie-talkie. He was frowning, young face pulled into a taught grimace.

They'd been trying to get Hiro to move for upwards of a half an hour. They'd approached him, tried to talk, but all he'd said was, "Find another path." Again and again, they'd tried to move him. Again and again, they chose to ignore the church housing orphans behind him. He wasn't terribly certain what they where they were going or why they felt the need to bulldoze through a seemingly abandoned chapel and he found that he didn't really care. He was sixteen and he felt like he was sixty and he _wasn't going to let them through._

He didn't use any violence against them even when they tried to shove him aside. Every single time he just put himself back in place and when they got more insistent he pressed his fingers into the black, gel bracelet around his wrist. He was sucked against the ground then, multifunctional sneakers cementing him to the pavement. They'd literally have to break his legs to move him.

"For fucks sake," he muttered under his breath as the officer shouted at him one more time before signaling to his troops, using his index and middle finger to gesture a change of direction, "All I wanted to do was pick up some goddamn groceries." As the men moved out he watched, turning his head to observe and then moving back to watch the next line.

A few of the soldiers spat at him.

A few tried to punch him.

One landed a booted blow on his shin.

But still, Hiro never twitched.

He, unlike these good-for-nothing men, could take a hit.

It was about ten minutes before the small army of reinforcements had finally strutted off.

From behind him a nun approached, "Young man!" she called, fighting to be heard above the rain. Pressing his fingers into his wrist band to deactivation the suction in his sneakers, he turned to her. The helicopter was still hovering above as she waddled towards him with the veil of her habit held over her head, "quick, come inside, come!"

She grabbed his hand and pulled him forwards and for a few steps he let her, then dug in his feet, "we must hurry!" For a moment Hiro looked up at the helicopter, willing it to go away and after a few minutes it did. Then he was dragged inside the chapel and the swarm of children were likewise ushered off the porch and into safety. Several nuns bustled him forwards, hushed whispers echoing around the moldy chapel.

"Um-" he started, noticing a few Asian faces in the mixture of children, "What are you-"

The head sister was taking nothing from no-one as she grabbed his hand and barked at a younger sister, "Where is that first aid kit?!" Blinking rain out of his eyes Hiro was pulled down to a pew, watching the girls bustle about with boxes and such. Though he might have protected them from being run down it still wasn't safe here for them anymore. They'd been caught on live television. Protesters and anti-ginkos were likely to come after them now- even if the nuns were white themselves. People would hate them just for their relationship with a ginko.

"I'm sorry," Hiro said truthfully, guilt welling up inside him. He knew it wasn't his fault that this was happening but the more heroic side of him wished he could have prevented it so they wouldn't be forced to move.

"Foolish boy!" the old woman spat and bopped him on the head with her free arm, "what nonsense do you speak of?" An amused smile pulled at his lips and he let her pull up his sleeve to examine his wound. "What monsters those men are!" she mumbled furiously, "thinking they can storm through here like this," she continued a hushed, very ungodly rant as she grabbed the first aid kit handed to her.

"Oh- no, please," Hiro pulled his hand from her grasp suddenly, "you shouldn't waste any of that on something like this-"

"That's some bloody blasted hogwash!" the nun retorted.

"Hey, wait," he scuttled back, "listen, it's alright. You need all of that, I've got my own back at the dorms."

The nun opened her mouth to protest but a different voice beat her to it, "Gelda, give him some space." He turned and saw the pastor then. A man who looked to be in his mid-thirties with the kind of smile that sucked you in and made you think everything would be okay. He had short salt and pepper hair marked by the occasional clumsy braid likely done by the little girls his old church housed. In his left hand he held a wooden cane which he leaned into heavily and his blue eyes glittered with kindness. But his skin wasn't pastel white and his eyes were narrowed.

A ginko.

_Ah, _Hiro thought, _that explains why the army was so willing to tear this place down. _A part of him had wanted to believe that because the church seemed so utterly devoid of life they had simply thought it abandoned.

Of course he was wrong.

The man limped up to Hiro's side with a towel draped over his arm, "Please child, tell me; why won't you accept treatment?" Upon reaching the exchange student's side he poured the cloth over his head and gently began to scrub his dripping hair.

Somewhat uncomfortable by the contact Hiro politely extracted himself, "I can't bring myself to ask anything of people who have so little and need so much," he explained simply, drying himself.

The older man tilted his head to the side, "and yet you have less."

"Well- I," Hiro struggled for a few moments, unable to determine a good response to that. It was as though the rain had flooded his brain and he couldn't think properly anymore, "I have some stuff at the dorms…"

The older man gave a good hearted chuckle and patted his shoulder reassuringly, "Son, you have saved our lives. I could not bear the thought of allowing you to wander off back into battle without offering my thanks first."

Still he hesitated.

The chapel's residents would have to move and if anyone got hurt they'd desperately need every scrap of that first aid kit.

"This is as much for us as it is for you," the pastor explained, the crow's feet around his eyes thickening in a smile, "please, child."

After a moment of deliberation Hiro unleashed a heavy sigh and hung his head in defeat, "seems I don't have much of a choice."

Gelda nodded her head and grunted approvingly before she popped open the kit. Her gnarled hands were surprisingly gentle as she worked on cleaning his wounds. The treatment stung a little and brought painful memories of Tadashi cleaning his abrasions after particularly bad beatings from local bullies so long ago. Hiro distracted himself by listening to the rain; the way it drummed against the roof and beat a rhythm through the chapel. He was quickly caught by the way it tumbled through holes in the roof and trickled into pots and buckets littered between pews. Tilting his head back he observed the dark overcast sky between the broken drywall and shattered shingles above.

_It feels like late evening…_

"Son," the pastor's voice caught his attention again and Hiro turned, catching sight of a few naughty children who had snuck out of bed and watched them from the foot of the stairs, "tell me, have you been baptized?"

Struck by the odd question, Hiro blinked then winced with a hiss as the nun dapped at the deepest part of his wound.

"Belt up," she murmured good-naturedly and set aside the cloth to begin wrapping his hand.

"Gelda," the pastor sighed. Then he looked at Hiro again and smiled, "so?"

Pursing his lips together the teen tried to remember if his parents had done so when he was little. Finally, after a pregnant pause, he shook his head, "No." As the nun finished tying up his bandages the pastor stood from the end of the pew with a light huff, leaning into his cane.

"Well," he said, "why don't we change that."

Smiling gratefully Hiro also stood, thanking the nun softly before gently informing the pastor, "That's kind but I am not religious."

For a moment surprise crossed the older man's face but then his features eased again and he nodded, "I will respect your stance."

Picking up his bag, Hiro looked out at the pouring rain and deliberated for a few heartbeats before relinquishing his hold on the groceries to Gelda, "take these, they won't last during my walk back to the dorms." Both looked utterly perplexed by his offer and the head sister tried to formulate a protest, "Please, I don't want to waste food and the bread will be soggy by the time I get back." One cup of awkward silence later, the nun reached forward and grabbed the bag. "Thank you for your help," Hiro told them, "but my roommates are probably throwing fits by now and I need to get back to the dorms before nightfall-"

At that moment the stocky nun threw her arms around him and pulled him close, burrowing her face in his wet jacket, "kindness knows no words!" she cried.

Utterly perplexed by the motion Hiro was unsure of what to do. Then he caught the tears in the pastor's eyes and commiseration welled up within him even as the older man smiled. He returned the nurse's gesture and let her decide when to move. Young whispers caught his attention and he looked over his shoulder to see the little ones speaking among each other. When Gelda stepped back into the comforting hands of the other sisters, soothed and given hankies, one stout little boy leapt from the gathering of youths and waddled up to Hiro.

With a determined grimace set into his face he grabbed the older boy's jacket and gave it a firm yank. Smiling softly he leant down so they were at eye level.

One of the sisters gasped, "Jeoff!"

"Goo' lug," the little boy proposed and stuck out a chubby fist.

Curious, Hiro held out his open palm and let the child drop a pebble into his hand. As his brain attempted to unravel the words he held the rock and examined it closely. It was well-rounded, almost completely cylindrical, and as white the feathers of a groomed dove.

"Quartz," he realized.

"Goo' lug!" the boy insisted, jabbing a finger against Hiro's cheek as a nun gathered him up in her arms, "Goo' lug!"

"Yes, yes," she nodded as though she understood, "Did you give the onii-sama your present?" A smile pulled at his face, somewhat startled by the praise she'd given him just by reverting to Japanese momentarily. The little one gave a furious nod, glaring at her as though he thought she might try to take it away. But she just smiled and said, "Well, that was very nice of you, Jeoff." He giggled with delight and Hiro exchanged a well-mannered smile with the older woman before she turned to usher the children away.

"When this war is done you must find us and come to visit," the pastor told him as Hiro pocketed his prize.

"I'll see what I can do if the time comes-"

Firm hands grabbed his shoulders, "_when _the time comes," he insisted.

Another smile came across Hiro's face and he nodded, though he still didn't believe he would make it through the violence alive by the war's end. Not with his heroic habits, at least.

"Thank you," he said and with a bow, moved to the double doors at the end of the aisle.

"Young man," the pastor called out suddenly, hobbling forward a few steps, "what is your name?"

Startled that he had never given it to him Hiro lifted his head a little higher, "Ah, sorry, it's Hiro!"

"A name of patience and tolerance," the man beamed, awe glittering in his eyes. Then he bowed so low one of the nuns almost had to steady him, "_Thank you._"

Smiling the sixteen-year-old nodded his head and turned. He stepped out into the rain prepared for the pelting droplets and waded to the sidewalk. He turned and observed the dark chapel for a moment just before he could turn the corner, chewing on what the child had told him. In his pocket he fiddled with the pebble of quartz.

When he finally realized what the little boy had been trying to say his smile broadened and he continued on down the street with the widest grin he'd had on his face in days.

_Good luck._

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><p><em>AN: Please understand that I am limiting the amount of exposition in this story. As a result you will have to wait for chapter two before the pieces begin connecting and your questions are answered. I am hoping that the synopsis has helped you.<em>

_If you like it leave me an O, if you hate it leave me an X._

_Cheers!_


	2. I Woke Up To Riots

_Please forgive me, I am so sick and I feel like something terrible has gone wrong with this chapter. But I'm too messed up to discern what it is. ;A; Guys what have I done? Where is my error?_

_What?_

_Wat?_

_(It's going to be super mortifying, isn't it? Guh, I hate how colds mess me up.)_

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><p>-Chapter 2-<p>

-I Woke Up To Riots -

It had been about a week since he'd woken up, confused beyond measure, in a hospital bed with Aunt Cass at his side. She'd been fast asleep but not long after his eyes had fluttered open a few nurses hurried into the room and woke her, summoning a doctor along the way. There'd been a lot of tests, gushing, relieved tears, and questions before he had been given the chance to settle down with her and hear what had happened.

Aunt Cass told him about the fire and about Callaghan as his friends rushed to his bedside from a late night of working at SFIT. She told him about his little brother's success at school and about the misery his "death" had caused them. From her Tadashi learned that he'd been discovered, locked in a coma, in a Laboratory on Watanuki Island off the coast of San Fransokyo- his kidnapper having been his former idol; Robert Callaghan. It had been a heavy blow to his heart to learn that the man he'd looked up to for so long, the one that had challenged him, encouraged him, and fought for him had betrayed him so readily. His only comfort was the fact that he had been saved by Callaghan and kept alive for several months due to his efforts.

He'd been saved somewhere in the middle of fall during Hiro's freshman year, but he was a junior now. That was two years ago and his little brother was half-way done with school.

Of all the things that had struck him hard _that _was probably the worst of them. Hiro, his little baby brother, had grown up without him…

Tadashi had received a full serving of lectures from all his friends and remaining family but it wasn't until he'd heard about Hiro that he realized he would have to wait before he received the biggest one of all.

He'd been stunned by the pride in his friends' faces as they told him, "Your little brother's a genius! He got chosen to join the IRSG on their trip this year! That makes him the youngest attendee they've _ever_ had!" IRSG, International Robotics Study for Geniuses, was a program designed by the dean of SFIT to give leading students the chance to learn from other professionals around the globe. Tadashi had been offered the chance to go to France with them once but that had been back when his little brother was neck deep in botfights and he hadn't felt comfortable with leaving him behind so he had declined the generous offer.

"You should have seen the look on his face when we told him that _you'd _almost gone on one of these trips, dude!" Fred had exclaimed, eyes aglow with such radiance that Tadashi couldn't help but smile too. Aside from growing a little taller, budding a goatee, and losing the beanie, his friend hadn't changed a whole lot in the two years he'd been gone.

"Yeah, the little man's face lit up like a Christmas tree," Wasabi had laughed. The older man had a short, fuzzy beard lining his jaw and curling over his upper lip, something that Tadashi had immediately gawked at. When asked, his friend had sheepishly told him that while he'd been pulling several all-nighters a few years back he hadn't had the chance to shave and the resulting stubble had, as many had told him, "added to his character and attracted game." It had taken a bit before he got used to the disorder of having a little beard but he seemed to like it. Now, along with his typical headband, Wasabi had taken to pulling his tyke dreads back into a taught pony tail, clearing his face more and enabling him the ability of enhanced accuracy.

"Oooh," Honey had laughed, jumping up and down at the end of the bed until Gogo reached out and stopped her, "he was so excited to go, Tadashi! You should have _seen _him!" Sometime in the past two years she had decided to cut her hair. As the story went the Latino had finally gotten it caught in one her experiments and hadn't had much choice in the end. He thought she looked pretty cute with it cut to shoulder length, though, and his compliments had seemed to make her happy too. Her pink headband remained to keep wandering strands back and her glasses were ever the same. Honey's skin was a little darker now too but he didn't bother to ask about that.

"Hiro's been in Europe for about almost a week now," Gogo had explained with a laid back smirk. In contrast to Honey she had actually let her hair grow long, draping over her shoulders and pouring down her back. She'd kept the streaks in her hair though this year they were blue instead of purple. Unlike the others she had grown taller, gained more muscle, and her face had matured. The Korean woman's eyes had thinned out, lashes curling thickly and lips just a little bit fuller than before. Overall her face looked longer and she was a few inches taller than before. Her fashion sense was as punk as ever, though.

Tadashi laughed a little at that, pleased to hear that his brother had been doing well in his absence.

"He'll be so happy to hear that you're awake," Aunt Cass had smiled. She had a few more gray hairs and wrinkles these days and she kept her hair drawn up in a bun but that aside she really hadn't changed at all. Ultimately they had decided to hold back from telling Hiro the good news because of the 8 hour time difference between them and his aunt worried that once he heard about it , Tadashi's little brother would throw away this newest educational opportunity, get on the next plane, and fly back immediately.

Now, a week later he was in the hospital mostly for observation with a promise from his doctor hanging over his head. If he was still looking good by Wednesday Tadashi would be allowed to go home. He'd have to come in for bimonthly checkups for a while afterwards though, but he didn't mind too much.

Tadashi's eyes were on the TV posted on the wall across from the end of his bed, a remote in one hand and the other tracing the scars curling over his other forearm casually as he listened to the evening bustle outside his room. The scars he'd been left with were slightly puckered, white in some areas and trimmed with red in others. It looked like someone had ripped off his skin, set the strips in a pot of boiling water, and then tried to stretch it back over his body.

It was definitely going to be a while before he got used to them- as he would most certainly have to as they were by no means easy to ignore. The gruesome picture rolled over his right arm, along his leg, flickered across his back and slipped along his left side. He'd have to undergo a lot of painful and trying therapy but despite the warnings he had received Tadashi was eager to get back on his feet.

It was around 8 pm in San Fransokyo right now and he skimmed past news channels, cartoons, sci fi shows, and such for what felt like forever before something caught his ear.

"_Something remarkable was happening in London yesterday evening as troops…"_

He keyed in on the mention of the city his brother was studying in and stayed his hand, lowering the remote and focusing on the blond reporter looking into the camera. His eyes froze on the words splattered across a red banner at the bottom of the screen. '_BREAKING NEWS,' _they read in big, bold, capital letters, '_LONDON RIOTS; Young ginko forms single-man blockade against English soldiers…' _A thick, hot ball of nervousness formed a lump in his throat as he took in the information underneath the anchorwoman's desk:

_Young university student stands in front of platoons of British soldiers sent to help maintain the riots between English and Japanese in the city of London._

He quickly turned up the volume, hardly aware of the door opening from across the room as the reporter continued, _"The riots in London have only gotten worse despite the efforts of British police in the area and in an effort to maintain the growing problem Commander Joseph O'Connall was sent out yesterday evening with a small army of three fully armed platoons accompanying him. According to what our reports tell us they were hoping that the sight of so much artillery would help to dissuade the Japanese but things haven't exactly gone to plan."_

"Tadashi?" he heard Aunt Cass's worried voice as though he was underwater, gaze never leaving the TV. _Please, _he thought with baited breath, _please be okay, Hiro._

"_As we see in this video our news copter caught the day before, the intimidating presence of O'Connall's men armed to the teeth and ready to start a war did nothing to sway a young Japanese college student determined to defend a seemingly deserted chapel from the passing tanks." _The news reporter disappeared, replaced by a video disrupted by the thick fall of rain. Focused in the center of the camera's field of vision was a small figure probably an inch or so shorter than Aunt Cass. The student's face was mostly kept hidden by the umbrella in its hand but soon it dipped back and a familiar- if not somewhat older- face peered up at them from under the rim.

Tadashi's heart froze in his chest when his little brother's face appeared on the grainy screen and Aunt Cass gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Hiro…?" his aunt whispered, collapsing into the chair at his bedside. Tadashi didn't reply, all color draining out of his face as he watched the report with growing terror.

Then the camera zooned out and his heart froze in his chest.

A few meters in front of his little brother stood an army and a half of soldiers flanking a line of tanks and various vehicles. Every figure wearing the universal, dust colored camouflage of the military held at least one large gun that he could see and they figures pooled across the street like one massive puddle. Aside from the soldiers and his little brother the streets were utterly deserted. Tadashi felt like he was watching a movie, the kind that wrenched your heart out and chewed it to pieces before you even got past the introductions. If his eyes could have moved away from the figure of his baby brother he might of noticed faces in the windows, the presence of onlookers from behind their fortified barriers, doing nothing but watching the scene before them.

Hiro stood in the middle of the sidewalk at a break in the road- where the street broke into a 'T'- with a black umbrella held over him, a plastic grocery bag in one hand, and feet stuck firmly to the ground. It was hard to make out his face even with the camera zooming in so far but Tadashi recognized his little brother anywhere. He looked a little older but it was too hard to properly make everything out in the darkness, the rain, and the uneven filming. _"This unidentified young man bravely faced down O'Connall's army single-handedly the other day with no weapons or protection of any kind." _The camera moved around and zoomed out a little again to show more of his younger sibling, the helicopter it was stationed on flying back in an arc so his face could be see more clearly.

"_We're told the soldiers never had any intention of firing a single bullet as they paraded through the streets of London the day before at 3:40 PM, their goal only to scare and intimidate. However, as we see in this video they were more than prepared to let off a few shots if it meant clearing the way in front of them." _The anchorwoman fell silent and audio crackled out of the video. Tadashi could hear the pour of rain, the clack of shifting guns, the rumble of engines and with each sound he heard he felt ice beat through his chest. Then he caught sight of a figure he presumed to be O'Connall; with his torso popped out the hatch of the first tank and head bent over, mouth against the walkie-talkie in his hand as he shouted above the rain.

If Tadashi had been hooked up to a heart monitor it would have been beating a mile a minute as he heard a terrifying command leap through the audio and watched the young, short-haired male raise an arm.

"_Mark!"_

O'Connal paused, then swung the soaking limb down.

"_Fire!"_

A choked cry of fear spiraled out of Aunt Cass as she pressed her thin hands to her mouth in terror, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Tadashi's hands fisted in the sheets and he leaned forward, eyes shining with similar distress. They watched the umbrella shoot out of Hiro's grip, snapping and folding back in the rain like a crumping soda can.

His little brother never flinched.

Not even as his hand was yanked back from the force. Not even as blood began to ooze from the wound and mix with the rain.

Not even as O'Connall raised his arm again.

Tadashi was hardly impressed though, mentally urging his _dumb, stupid, reckless, _little brother to _getoutofthere! What are you trying to prove?! _He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached and he swore he felt his teeth crack.

Hiro lowered his empty hand even as another shot was fired and a bullet embedded itself into the concrete at his feet. Aunt Cass visibly flinched at that even as the expression on her young nephew's face never changed.

Tadashi's fists tightened, the fabric squeaking in his hold, "Hiro…"

Then the anchorwoman's voice came back, _"This mysterious adolescent stood in front of the soldiers for upwards of a half an hour, resisting all attempts made to move him." _A clip was shown of several men trying to shove Hiro aside with no visible success, _"For reasons we're unable to explain no one was able to get him out of the way and eventually the soldiers were ordered to take another path." _Briefly he saw an image of the soldiers passing his brother but it cut off somewhat abruptly, returning the spotlight to the anchor woman.

"_Obviously the violence in England has escalated drastically," _Aunt Cass was pulling her phone out as the report continued and Tadashi's cell was going off on the nightstand. He didn't bother himself with it however, watching with fire in his eyes as videos caught of terrible aggression, bloody protests, and lines of bodies piled together filled the screen. Why was it that he was only just learning about this?! _"People have begun to call this phenomenon _The Ginko Riots _and news is spreading all over the internet with reactions from both sides escalating globally.* Since the Japanese military infiltrated the country and sabotaged almost 3/4s of electrical and nuclear power stations two weeks ago, causing several catastrophic explosions and leading to at least 30,000 lives lost, we have seen 143 Japanese civilians murdered, at least 21 unaccounted for, and 74 injured in London alone. All across-"_

"Hello?" Aunt Cass's voice, for whatever reason, caught his attention and he looked over, "Yes- yes, I'm Hiro Hamada's aunt- may I please speak to him? Is he there?" Tadashi set the TV to mute and looked at her, concern echoed in his eyes. Noticing that she'd caught his awareness his aunt pulled the cell away from her ear and set it on speaker.

"-not sure where he is," a young, British, female voice was saying, "Hold on a click, let me see if I can find him for you."

"Thank you," Aunt Cass sighed, exchanging a look with Tadashi as she scooted closer to the bed. There was a shuffling sound from over the phone and when the woman's voice came back it was somewhat distant.

"_Yo, Marcus!"_ she called and there was a faint reply, _"Where's Hiro?"_

"_Huh?" _came a quiet, muffled answer.

The British woman sighed loudly, "Hiro! Where is he?"

There was a thoughtful pause, an exchange of words between men, then a different voice piped up, _"Who wants to know, Mag?" _Mag quickly explained the situation to him before another pregnant pause filled the room, _"Well, it's like 4 AM right now so either A) he's sleeping like a regular person or B) he's working on something." _The girl on the phone must have given this new speaker a dark look or something because he quickly added, _"-hey, look, I don't know, okay?! I don't even know why _I'm_ awake right now!"_

Another sigh crackled over the speaker before her voice returned to regular volume, "Well, he's probably asleep right now, I'm just not-"

"_He's in here, Maggie!" _

"Oh- hold on-" she took the phone away from her ear and called back a thank you before returning, "Would you like me to wake him up?"

Tadashi worried his lip between his teeth for a moment and exchanged another look with his aunt before subconsciously shaking his head, "No, thank you, that's alright. He needs all the sleep he can get."

"Sure thing," the woman said, "And just so we're clear; don't worry, I know that, as his family, you're probably all worried that we might murder him or something because we're British. Hiro's safe with us though, and so is any other Asian. We'll look after him for you and if anything happens to him you'll be among the first people we call." Relief swept through Tadashi at that and a smile dared to touch Aunt Cass's face.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, "we both needed to hear that."

"No problem!" Maggie replied and a distain uproar sounded from another room, "is there anything you want me to tell him when he wakes up?"

Another silent message was exchanged between the two Hamadas before Tadashi spoke, "Just, let him know that his family sends him our love and that he needs to be safe. If he pulls anymore heroic stunts like that last one a lecture won't be the only thing he gets from us."

Maggie laughed good naturedly at that, "sure thing. It may help you to know that we've already given him an earful for that one. Anyway, I'll let him know that his family called but my shift is just about over and I'd like to get to bed. Have a good night, you guys."

The phone went dead to a chime of "good night"s from both Hamada's. Then the room was silent.

Aunt Cass muttered something under her breath about stress eating and got up as Tadashi turned his gaze to the TV screen again, watching as riot footage streamed across it.

_What have you gotten involved in now, little brother?_

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><p><em>*I have a proposal for those who may be interested; while I do plan on using discussions on the internet to highlight certain parts of this story (Like what the rest of the world thinks of the riots, Hiro's, well, heroism, and the international issues between Japan and England) and plan on stylizing them myself I would like to know if anyone wants to help out? You can formulate your own thoughts into a comment, paragraph, etc, and post it in a review. I will then slap that related comment into the story as Tadashi, Hiro, Honey, or some other character surfs through the internet. (I'm sorry, I'm having a hard time explaining this for some reason.) I will, of course, give you mention either in the AN or the story itself. :)<em>

_If you want to participate but don't know what to write/rant about here are a few options:_

_(A.) Pretend you're surfing through tumblr, or facebook, or whatever and you come across a thread about the aggression between students at the college Hiro's attending (ICL= Imperial College London) and how the Japanese students are having a hard time getting to class. Some teachers have banned them from the class room, others refuse to grade fairly, and fellow students harass, terrorize, and even torture some ginko undergraduates. You are supplied with documented evidence in the form of articles, photographs, etc. Some people are saying that, given what they've done, the Japanese deserve it. What do you say? PLEASE BE SPECIFIC!_

_(B) You find gory images of riots that include; bloody head injuries, body piles, wounded children, armed police, soldiers, and swat teams. How do you react?_

_(C) You find a thread trying to identify the young man that protected a "seemingly abandoned church". How do you contribute? (Please be reasonable! You don't know anything about Hiro yet.)_

_(D) You find a report detailing the threat against the Japanese by not only rioters but the police and military as well. What do you think of this?_

_(E) **You find a thread that shows photos of Hiro's one-man-stand against the army but these actually show the full thing- unlike the 'copter's camera. This means the children and nuns behind Hiro are in the shot and his intentions are more obvious. It becomes clear that this was cut out of the footage the British cameramen got. What do you say? Why?_

_Please note that the comment you contribute cannot be any less than _**2 fully structured sentences **_or _I will not include it._ I'm not entirely sure how many of you will contribute and its fine if you decide not to at all, I'm more than capable of coming up with my own stuff. I simply thought it might be kind of cool to give you guys the chance to get involved. _

_Sorry for the long note! _

_O means keep posting, X means stop._

_Cheers!_


	3. I Can't Sleep In Peace

_I'm going to be twisting a lot of information about ICL in here to accommodate the story. Sorry! X( I might have to change the university to something else…_

* * *

><p>-Chapter 3-<p>

-I Can't Sleep In Peace-

He was warm, cozy, comfortable. The sun had yet to rise and aside from the quiet sound of people speaking beyond the door, the occasional hum of a cab outside, and his bunkmate snoring above him. Sighing huskily and craning his head back into the pillow Hiro observed the time from the clock on his nightstand, fiddling with the small metal piercings along the upper cup of his ear.

_6:23 AM_, he still had three hours until his next class. Shifting under the blankets so he was more settled against the wall the bunk bed was crammed against, Hiro closed his eyes and prepared to go back to sleep. Awareness was slipping away from him quickly as he buried his face into the blankets fisted around his hands, grateful for the warmth and plush mattress.

And then there was a shout in the distance, followed quickly by the peppering fire of a rapid fire gun. Surprised, the young college student lurched up, just narrowly avoiding a collision with the top of the bunk as he struggled to stumble out of bed. His legs were so tangled he almost fell over and an irritated curse came off his lips.

"Hiro…?" his roommate's voice sounded from the top of the bed but as another blood curdling scream rent the early morning air he was ultimately ignored.

"Help me!" a woman shouted from the streets and, once in the narrow hall outside his room Hiro barreled towards the window at the end to his left. He thrust out his hands, bracing himself against the window pane and coming to a lurching halt as the closer-than-usual sound of gunfire continued- now accompanied by breaking glass. Pressing his forehead against the window he searched for her, glancing up and down the yellow-lit streets. When he couldn't find her he determined that she was in an alley way and he'd have to go out and find the terrified woman but just as he turned around, ready to fly down six stories of stairs, a large, muscular chest blocked his way.

"Where do you think you're going?" blinking, he looked up into the tall African-American's narrow, gazelle-like face with an impatient frown. Seriously, with cheekbones like that the man could cut someone's finger.

"Where do you think, Chess?" Hiro demanded trying to work his way around the large individual without shoving. He knew that he'd no more be able to force the med student aside than he would be of moving the Tower of London, "Someone out there needs help!"

Of course, Chess didn't leave the younger, lean teenager much space to get away with and when Hiro attempted to dive between his legs one massive hand grabbed his collar and pulled him back. Good lord, this man was larger than Wasabi!

"Hngh-!" Hiro choked as he was set on his feet, "_Chess!_"

"You're not going out there," his bald friend told him, crossing his hands over his chest obstinately and glaring at him through his glasses. If not for his love of flannel and plaid, as well as the glasses, this guy could easily have been passed off as a bouncer.

Hiro, though, was a former bot fighter and had encountered- and fought- many of such people in his life. Not even the slightest bit intimidated he tried to slip through the space between Chess's hip and the wall but again he was pulled back. Another scream from outside made him momentarily stiffen and turn back towards the window.

Chess's deep baritone continued behind him, "We've talked about this, kid."

Hiro ignored him, eyes narrowing when he saw a young woman lurch out of an alleyway about a block away and race down the darkened street. She wore a black dress and held her shoes in her hand. Long, straight hair billowed behind her and her narrow, Asian face was twisted into panic. But she wasn't Japanese, Hiro knew. She looked more Chinese…

Then he saw the shadowed figure behind her and his eyes widened. A thick man with his face covered, hand held up beside him, something glinting in the light. It didn't take Hiro long to realize what it was and with a curse he scrabbled at the latch on the window. He yanked it open before Chess could stop him and thrust his head out into the winter chill, a shout of warning on his lips.

"He-" he started but before he could finish the woman's head jerked and she fell forward with a choking sound that echoed around the streets. Hiro's eyes widened, rage glittering fiercely in his eyes as shouts of success drifted from the shadows. He snapped his attention away from the corpse bleeding across the pavement, eyes catching the murderer's for a second before thick arms wrapped around his waist and yanked him back. "Chess-" he barked, no more concern left for their other sleeping roommates as he kicked and wriggled. Chess didn't reply, snapping the window shut, latching it, and pulling away quickly. "Ch-"

"You _idiot!" _the man boomed and Hiro jolted at the sudden rise of decibel. He hadn't ever heard the large man shout at anyone before. He was pushed up against the wall as others quietly emerged from their rooms, "Don't you realize that you're not the only one who _lives _in this building?!"

At that reminder he stiffened and stopped struggling. The dorms were absolutely crammed with people; 8 stories tall with as many rooms as could be architecturally safe built on each level. For some of these dorm rooms there was enough space for 8 people and Hiro's was one of them. Their individual living spaces were as small as you could imagine them to be, each of the four segregated rooms having a bunk bed inside, desks and wardrobes shoved against the walls cluttered with papers and various decorations. They were lucky enough to have a kitchen though, as well as a living room, and- thank _god_- a fridge capable of holding all their food.

"I realize that you have an unhealthy habit of putting others before yourself, Hiro," Chess sighed, leaning away from the stunned teen, "And I know you're younger than the rest of us-" he flinched, clenching his teeth to keep from protesting, "but you need to stop forgetting about the rest of us, alright?"

Hiro looked away for a moment then looked up and met Chess's green eyes, ultimately misunderstanding the concern in them, "I'm sorry," he said quietly, "I'll be better about it in the future." A small woman approached them from the closest room, her blonde roommate yawning behind her. She was a brunette with a ruffled pixie cut and a relatively flat body. If Gogo's body was an hour glass, hers would be a few shades shy of being a brick. The lesbian didn't seem to mind being mistaken as a male too much, though.

Her freckled face was pulled into a sympathetic smile as she came to stand beside Chess, their other dorm mates seeing the situation being handled and going back to their beds.

Clenching a fist Hiro turned his gaze back to the window, trying so hard to swallow his rage, "she wasn't even a _ginko though._"* At that, both persons grimaced but the younger was too busy thinking about quick routes that would take him to the street and other subtler ways of defending people from the dorms. If he could get to the roof fast enough, maybe he could use that laser he'd been working on to blind the attackers? No, they'd have to look at him for that to happen and then they'd come to investigate the dorms if he missed.

He gritted his teeth and grabbed his chin unconsciously. As much as he hated it, Chess was right. What he had almost done was incredibly reckless and he needed to make sure his actions didn't attract consequences that would reflect on the people he lived with. He _had _to be safer about this for them.

"-Hiro!" thick black fingers snapped in front of his face and he turned, ripped from his thoughts.

"Oh, he's definitely planning," the brunette said with a light chuckle, setting a hand on her hip and observing him. At 5"7, Hiro stood 6 inches over the 21-year-old, though he knew better than to underestimate her because of her height and gender.

Chess heaved a dramatic sigh and slapped a hand against his forehead, "Unbelievable."

A chord in Hiro's heart was pulled taught then and snapped his mouth shut before he turned and started walking away. "Sorry," he said, "Now's not a good time for this." Being a hormonal teenager, he decided, _sucked. _

"Hiro!" at the sound of her voice, he turned, looking at his classmate tiredly, "Your family called earlier- wanted to make sure you were okay. They want you to call back when you're ready." It startled him how much he really needed to hear that and it must have showed on his face because sympathy flew across Chess's face.

He pursed his lips and squeezed his fist thoughtfully before he replied, "Thanks, Mag. I think I'll take guard duty a little early today."

No one pointed out that putting a ginko on guard was counter-productive when almost 2/3rds of the people in their dorm didn't even look Asian.

Popping into his room briefly he grabbed his blue SFIT hoodie and yanked it over his head.

"Hey," his roommate whispered from the top bunk, "You okay?"

"I'm fine, Kogami, don't worry," slipping his sneakers on and sliding a flip-knife into the elastic waist band of his pajamas he grabbed his cell, "I'm just going to step out for a bit."

"Alright," his friend murmured sleepily, "be careful out there."

Shutting the door behind him quietly he padded over the carpet, ignoring the whispered conversation that was going on between Chess and Maggie behind him. He passed into the main room and gave a tired nod of acknowledgement to the night-watch crew. The three men reciprocated the movement, distracted by their game of Halo. Seriously, half their electricity bill came from these dudes.

"Yah, steppin' out?" Gregory asked him as he headed for the door.

"Just a little bit," Hiro replied, unlocking the door and turning the nob.

"Yo, hold up!"

He paused and looked over his shoulder.

"How long before we gotta look for ya?" the black-haired gamer asked, scratching at his 6 o' clock shadow.

"About 30 minutes," Hiro told him, "see ya." Then he was out the door and latching it behind him. Pocketing his keys and squinted even in the dim light. A lump had formed in the back of his throat, worry for his other Asian friends in the area rolling through him. It was relieving beyond belief that his team had stayed in San Fransokyo, especially Gogo.

Sighing, he widened his strides, hurrying to the end of the silent hall. A part of him wished he'd never woken up. Upon reaching the elevator he pressed the up arrow and turned to observe the state of the glass littered streets outside as he waited. In the distance he could see the glow of fires, hear the wail of ambulances and police vehicles. This particular sector of London was bad, but not the worst, so he wasn't surprised when he heard no tanks firing off in the distance. He bit his lip, worried.

Contrary to what the news stated, there wouldn't be tanks involved in this if the military didn't plan on hurting people and given what he'd seen yesterday…

Hiro worried they'd round all the ginkos up and throw them into an internment camp. Relations between England and Japan had been pretty tight since the latter had stopped selling them wind turbines 4 years ago, leaving them to their pollution and causing sickness to slip through the streets as the British struggled to clean up their messes.* Many people blamed the Japanese for that already and things had only proceeded to get worse between the two nations from then on…

_Ding!_

Sniffing and scratching the back of his head he slipped inside. These days it wasn't quite as fluffy as it had been before and it was better contained. There were still a few locks on the right side of his head that insisted on sticking straight up but for the most part it was really a rat's nest anymore. Maybe that was because he'd started wearing Tadashi's hat?

Cautiously he checked out the area around him before he let the doors close. Before coming to England he honestly hadn't had any problems with elevators but now they made him a little nervous. If something happened there wasn't a whole lot of space to defend himself or to avoid a bullet. Knowing that one of the Japanese IRSG students from SFIT had been strangled to death in one last week didn't really help him either.

By the time he reached the top level his foot was tapping. He stepped out and slipped into the corridor, hurrying to the end, and moving up the last set of stairs. Hiro found himself at the top of the building then, closing the door behind him with one last check down the steps to be sure he hadn't been followed.

Feeling comfortable that he was alone he moved across the roof to the edge. He peeked over the side and examined the street below him. Where the Chinese woman from earlier had been there was now nothing more than a puddle. Keeping low he looked around for the murderer and his friends. When he came up with nothing he turned. Pressing his back against the short brick wall topped with a black, Victorian-style fence, Hiro lowered himself to the ground. He was facing the door and for a while he just stared it, deep in thought.

A woman had died right before his eyes this morning.

He'd seen people struck before, he'd seen people crumble, and he'd seen people flattened by falling buildings. Sometimes, particularly when some mad man upset over a rejection by his favorite science group came in, Big Hero 6 had to face off against monsters far bigger than what Callaghan had been. Once they'd even fought against a biological experiment gone wrong that was about half the size of the Sydney Bridge from the bottom of the bay to the tip of its highest spire. And there was another time they'd had to fight a gelatinous blob monster that smelled like lutefisk- though the stench from that one had caused more damage than anything else, really.

Simply put, in his life, there had been times where he couldn't have done anything. There had been times when he'd had to watch people get hurt or be killed. But already he knew how to dissociate himself from things as good as any soldier or cop. He'd had to learn that sometimes you couldn't save everyone and when one man is lying on the ground half buried in concrete beside his little girl you _have _to just cope with it because there are 143 others who still need you. If Hiro and his team hadn't learned to dissociate themselves along the way they'd have gone crazy long ago.

Honey still has a hard time with it sometimes, though. Fred and Wasabi too.

But they'd all gotten better.

Sighing heavily, Hiro leaned his head back and watched the starry sky above him with his breath pluming in front of him. He hoped it would freeze in the morning.

_How do I do this? _He thought, _How can I protect people from themselves? _Sooner or later he would have to hurt people, he knew, and no part of him was looking forward to that. _Am I, _he swallowed a lump in his throat and squeezed his phone tightly, _Will I have to kill someone? _

_**yes**__, _a little voice in the back of his head told him.

Before he knew it Hiro had pulled his cell phone from his pocket and was calculating the time in San Fransokyo. He bit his lip, it must be almost 11 over there now. Rubbing the back of his neck uncomfortably he fought with himself for a little bit before finally just giving up and snapping open his phone.

His inbox was full of messages that he'd ignored throughout the day, too busy with other priorities to bother with. Certainly didn't help that most of them had been sent to him at 4 in the morning. He smiled, reading his friends' desperate attempts to contact him with sympathy and guilt in his eyes. Really, he should have known that they'd find out about what was happening over here sooner or later. Actually he should be surprised that they'd only just heard about it now.

_omgomgomg, _Honey had sent, _omg I justsaw the news report r u okay? Why didn't uoy tell us SOONER?_

And there was some from Fred that read; _hey little dude!1! whas going on over there're?! Need me to ask for a telleporter from Wasabi so I can get over tehr e and help?_

He smiled, looking through Wasabi's messages. Most of them warned him about things he already knew about, listed supplies he'd need for a fallout, and advised him to get his butt back home asap.

But Hiro couldn't leave any more than they could get on a plane and come to him. The airports were blocked off from any Japanese people and had been for the past three days- not that he had any plans on leaving his friends here to fight alone anyway. His family and friends back home were important but there was no way he could abandon these people and still call himself a Hamada. He wouldn't be able to look Tadashi in the eye when he woke up…

Running a hand down the side of his face he found a few missed calls from Aunt Cass and a single text from Gogo; _Text me in the morning. _

A fond but tiny smile stretched across his face and he opened a new message.

_I'm okay, _he wrote, _it's okay. Focus on school and the city, I'll be alright. There are other people who need you right now. 'Night and good luck. _

Hiro sent the message to his team and then wrote a separate one for his aunt: _I'm alright, don't worry about me. Thanks for looking after Tadashi. Talk to you later, goodnight._

He wanted so badly to ask if his big brother had shown any changes but he couldn't risk getting his hopes up only to have them crushed right now.

So he spent the next fifteen minutes watching his swirls of breath and the stars flicker overhead, trying to ignore the shouts, patter of gunfire, and barking dogs in the distance. He thought of the nuns, the pastor, and their church. He thought of the children as he played with the little rock of quartz still pocketed in his hoodie. Joshua's little voice echoed in his head and he closed his eyes, trying not to let his hope be swallowed by darkness as he focused on their faces.

After a short time he pulled the rock from his pocket and held it up against the moon, finding that it fit perfectly. Jokingly he thought, _I've got a little moon in my pocket. _

That made him smile and he brought the pebble closer to his chest, analyzing it.

"Good luck," he whispered to himself, tasting the words. He almost burst out laughing a moment later when he suddenly realized _exactly _what that little orphaned boy had given him. Grinning like he hadn't in days he rolled his new treasure around on his palm, "I've got a little moon rock of good luck with me, haven't I?"

His heart was a little lighter when he returned to the dorms and he kept his good luck charm clutched in his hand the entire journey back.

* * *

><p><em>*Yeah, I love England- the people are awesome. But I hate certain environmental things about them and I hate how they refuse to try greener things more right now because they're such a huge influence on developing countries- c'mon guyysss. You've got the IPCC! MAKE SOME CHANGES. ;A; (Admittedly, America is worse right now…. ._. )<em>

_*I am aware that ginko trees are found in Japan, China, and Korea. But the Japanese in this story are specifically called ginkos because reasons._

_Thanks for reading! You guys have a lot of really cool things to say, nice! :) I look forward to putting your comments in._

_O= I love it._

_X= I hate it._

_Cheers! _


	4. Learning To Adapt

_No, my turtles, there will be no romance in this story- at least none at the main focus. Perhaps a few background characters will have feely feels but none of that will happen between all the characters we know from the movie. (u/u)_

* * *

><p>-Chapter 4-<p>

-Learning To Adapt-

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><p><em>[4:35 PM]<em>

_[London]_

The rainclouds overhead cast the hall in grey shadow, the students that passed under the glass sun roof overhead like ghosts of themselves hardly able to look up from the floor.

Hiro felt himself deflate just a bit when he got his test back at the end of Bio Tech 204. His teacher, Mr. Rusk, hadn't seemed very supportive of the riots recently but until the past few days it hadn't been clear what side he stood on. Now though, due to unfair grading, offensive mannerisms, and clear favoritism, ginkos in his class had begun dropping out like flies. Looking through the midterm he'd "failed" as he stood outside his class, Hiro bit his lip. He couldn't understand what he'd done wrong on all these questions- or if he'd done anything wrong at all. At this point he was willing to bet his entire quarter salary granted by SFIT that his teacher was trying to make him fail.

Sighing he folded the sheet of paper up and slipped it into his backpack. He had an F in the class but he'd be damned before he stopped attending. Mr. Rusk wasn't going to be able to chase him off that easily. Shrugging his bag farther along his shoulder he began walking out of the building. Today was Tuesday, that meant his classes ended at 4:30 and he had the rest of the day to work on his three online courses.

But first he'd have to get back to the dorms.

A burning sensation across his neck made him turn, meeting the shadowed eyes of a group of older men crowded around the elevator a few meters to his left. A few lit cigarettes filled the area with the smell of smoke and tobacco. Some wore their hoods up and others covered their hair with beanies. It was difficult to make out specific features of their faces and a shorter individual even wore a bandana around his jaw. Their postures were easy, laid back, but nonetheless prepared for the next ginko who dared to come out of the elevator.

Unwaveringly, Hiro met their gazes and stood firmly. His head was raised, hood down, and posture confident. One of the men, a student with a brown beard curling over his face in disorderly patches like it had caught fire at some point, fondled a size 6 hunting knife. Another- a young man with thick glasses and a scarf around his neck- shifted beside him. From the stiffness of the way the fabric of his left pant leg moved it became obvious to Hiro that he carried something a little bigger than a switchblade on him. From this distance it was too difficult to tell, however, so he turned on his heel and carried off down the hall.

He felt their eyes follow him to the stairs but he never looked back to acknowledge them. The college was an old one with Victorian style architecture for certain buildings and 21st century comforts- that Hiro decided he could not live without- for others around the various campuses. What you saw depended on what part of the district you were on.

He was in the biochemistry building on the South Kensington Campus so the architecture around him was more often modern and that was something he appreciated. Pushing down the wide, curling, glass and metal staircase he passed lingering students and ignored the glares he received along the way.

On the occasion that he saw a spare ginko here or there he'd provide a quick nod of acknowledgement and they would return it- rarely with a smile. It was as he was exiting the building on ground floor, headed for the bus stop off Queen's Gate Road, that he noticed a familiar backpack abandoned by the girls bathrooms.

Gabby's familiar, flamboyant bag was on the ground but the Chinese woman herself was no-where to be found. If times had been different Hiro probably wouldn't have thought much about seeing her green, flower speckled book bag leaning up against the wall but these weren't regular times. Worry swirled inside him for the girl and he reverted his course.

She was a thin but very intelligent girl in her early twenties and- at least to him- very obviously Chinese. Gabby was highly invested in biological engineering and would fly off energetically on the subject whenever she got the opportunity. The thought of open cadaver surgery didn't even deter her- in fact it only seemed to excite her. The bubbly foreign student actually reminded Hiro a great deal of Honey Lemon, though Gabby was a little more dependent on her friends and a little shier.

He didn't know her _that_ well but she was a nice, spunky acquaintance in class and he wasn't going to carry about his day if something was wrong.

Upon reaching the floral printed back pack he leaned down and looked around. Unable to locate his classmate anywhere he turned his attention to the object in front of him. After a bit of rifling his fingers closed around her phone and with disappointment in his heart he pulled it from the front pocket of her bag. A few charms dangled about, rolling along his fingers and tickling his flesh but he ignored them and turned pressed the menu button on her cell. Her last text had been sent to Maggie about 13 minutes ago but it didn't supply him with much.

Hauling the bag up off the ground he looked around for her again.

_Maybe she's in the bathroom?_

"Hiro!" the familiar pitch caught his attention and he turned, relief soaring through him at the sight of his missing classmate racing towards him, "xiāo dì!"*

At the honorific he blushed and immediately shushed her, "Gabby, _what _are you doing? You'll attract attention!"

Huffing she smiled apologetically at him and held out a hand for her bag, braids falling past her face, "sorry, it just slipped out." She was out of breath and her cheeks were pink, appearance scuffed. When he returned her backpack to her she stumbled as though she hadn't been prepared for the weight.

"Hey," his brow furrowed with concern, "are you okay?"

She nodded a little too frantically for his liking, accent coming a bit thicker in her distress, "Yes- yes, I am fine. Just fine. Thank you."

Hiro obviously wasn't convinced by this and eyed her up and down; Now that she was closer he could see her face was pale, there was a scrape along her cheek, and bruises flickered into view under her orange yoke-waist skirt when she turned and began hurrying away.

Alarmed, he chased after her, noticing the dirt pattered across her back, "o-oi, Gabriella!" Hiro reached out and grabbed her wrist firmly just before she reached to double doors.

"Do not touch me!" she gasped and shook him off. His eyes widened and they both froze, Gabby with her wrist against her chest, eyes wide, and shoulders quivering.

It was at that point that Hiro recognized what must have happened and his own eyes narrowed. He turned and searched the area for her attackers, savage gaze tearing through the crowd just daring them to come out. Of course he caught sight of no one appropriately suspicious on this floor or what he could see of the upper ones.

"Where are you hurt?" he asked and carefully moved closer, using his body to shield her from view as he started gingerly ushering her towards the doors. She opened her mouth to reply but he was in command-mode now and had already started asking his next question, "do you want to go to the hospital? I'll take you-"

Opening the door she hurried through but interrupted him as he navigated himself onto the steps behind her.

"I am fine," she stated just loud enough to be heard. She looked a little like a startled stoat but he shut his mouth, not wanting to overwhelm her. He glanced back again and then began making his way down the steps with her.

"Alright, but I'm taking you back to the dorms with me, ok? We live on the same floor, after all, so it's no trouble." Keeping her in the corner of his peripheral vision he started leading the way to the bus stop but this time she reached out and grabbed his wrist. Confusion pulled through him, tightened the features of his face, and he looked back at her.

Gabby swallowed and was unable to meet his gaze, "I am fine. Please." There was something more in her eyes that made him pause, a look of desperate guilt and warning. Her fingers trailed down his wrist and confusion turned to skepticism and caution until a thin piece of paper was pressed into his palm. Her accent thickened again, voice hurried and quiet, "I must visit mail post before going to the dorms. You must go ahead of me."

His mouth went dry as she breezed by him, whispering a mournful, "bào qiàn," as she passed.

_Sorry? What for…?_

He watched her go, waiting for his classmate to turn the corner before investigating what she'd put in his palm.

It was a small piece of paper not much bigger than a 1 dollar coin. Scrawled in thick sharpie across it was a word that made his heart plummet into his stomach.

**RUN.**

* * *

><p><em>[8:28 AM]<em>

_[San Fransokyo]_

Tadashi leaned back, biting his lip as he read through the virtual paper on his ipad. It was about 8:30 in the morning and all his friends were in class with Aunt Cass probably kept busy in the café. He didn't mind too much, however, caught up as he was trying to come to terms with everything he'd missed in the two years he'd been comatose.

Among the ever growing list of things he was focused on, Tadashi found a growing intrigue in San Fransokyo's Big Hero 6 group. The people who'd found him and brought justice to Professor Callaghan had been pretty busy since they had first appeared. From stopping speeding trams to destroying enormous blob monsters they'd become known as the city's superheroes since.

He had to admit, though, that the figures were all _very, __**suspiciously, **__**intensely **_familiar. It became pretty obvious when he saw Baymax decked out in red Hiro-ish armor and he'd been unable to resist the habit of smacking his head and muttering under breath when he'd realized:

Of _course_ his little brother would gather up his friends and turn them into a bunch of superheroes while he was gone.

Ultimately Tadashi had decided to educate himself on what they'd been doing, where their connections lay, etc, etc. He wouldn't confront them about it. Oh no, Tadashi wanted them to tell _him. _He'd wait as long as needed too.

He scrolled through _stumbl_, observing various comments about the team and smiling at the support they had*. There weren't a whole lot of clear pictures of them but he encountered a few videos that made him somewhat nervous. One of such being a catastrophic, terrifying, shaky clip of an enormous biological experiment gone wrong. It was startlingly human looking with lizard scales and a web cartilage splayed around its face. In the video Hiro was caught freefalling towards the monster's open jaws with Baymax rushing to grab him from behind. Shortly before the video cut out he thrust his left arm forward and a sonic boom destroyed the video's sound. A white light then interrupted the vision. Catastrophe cleanup photos showed a crater where the monster had been and people described the heat like it was magma, the smell like sulfur. He wasn't very happy about the 6th month absence of the local "Big Hero 6 leader" thereafter, images only of the others being spotted here and there as they helped with petty crimes.

He made note to ask Hiro about it sometime. (Though a part of him wondered if he'd ever get the chance.)

Flicking his long index finger along the pad's surface he found something that caught him off guard. There were two pictures; one was a grainy, blurry photo of Hiro riding on Baymax's back taken by an old camera phone and the other was an even foggier photo of his brother from two days ago facing off against the British military. He read the comments below it and wasn't too sure what to feel.

_AmmyBtop:__ Does anybody else notice a similarity here?_

_FiddleLEE: __Omg, what, what, what?! #screaming._

_littleriddleE: __Holy shit, these are _clearly _two different people. Just look at the size difference!_

Tadashi read through speculative comments trying to determine who his brother was and came across some absurd things along the way. Interested despite himself he followed the thread. Then he found a post of butchered pictures taken of Hiro's bravery against the platoons of soldiers. Each of them was obviously taken with cameras from residents along the street and some were better than others. A few of the higher quality ones had his brother's face blurred and looked like they'd been cropped but it didn't stop Tadashi from taking in every detail he could.

He hadn't really been able to see from the news reports but now he could tell that Hiro had grown quite well. He was several inches taller than he had been when he'd last seen him and he didn't wear his khakis anymore. Instead he wore jeans, red sneakers, and a baggie gray hoodie with a bigger black jacket clothed over it to help preserve warmth. The rain kept his hair splattered to his head so it was hard to see if his style had changed. Tadashi read the comments.

_Mahoumasterdonosensei:__ Here's more pics of that kid, yall. Blurred his face 'cause reasons, sorry. :P _

_FlipFlopSlopMop: __What the fuck does this kid think he's fucking doing? Someone identify this runt before he gets people hurt!_

_IgnorentMediaoutlet:__ Hey, lay off him. This kid is obviously a million times braver than you and dealing with some serious shit right now. If he gets identified, think of what people in London will do to him! Are you trying to get him killed? Guys, signal boost this! I want this kid to know he's got support! #stoprascism #GinkoRiots_

A grateful smile tugged at his lips as he continued reading, glad to see that while his brother might not be in the most Japanese supportive city right now he had others cheering him on.

_narniac4aslan:__ Wow, brave guy to keep back an army... I wonder if it will inspire others, though maybe that's not a good thing cause others might not be so lucky or smart _

_Dreaming2Write:__ Now that kid has some serious courage! I could probably never do anything like that! Now that is something Rosa Parks or Malala Yousafazi would do and that takes a lot of guts and bravery to do! But why for an empty church... was somebody in their?_

_YamamotoHam11:__ No-one's really sure yet. Some people are saying yeah but the media isn't being clear. Obviously they're hiding details from the public and as a journalist myself I have to say how unacceptable this is. This isn't what we do, this isn't what journalism is about. If anyone can find some pictures of the full situation, please don't be afraid to post them! This kid is the bravest person I've ever seen in my life and I don't want his actions to be mutilated by the media. Signal boost!_

_Redhairedbimbo42:__ reblogging because this is important! #Ginkosforever_

The comments went on and on, people trying to unmask his brother while others tried to protect him. He saw pictures of a few twitter accounts from people living in London describing what it was like trying to sleep with police and rioters shouting outside. He saw pictures of dumpsters and cars being overturned, lit on fire, etc. And he found comments that attacked his brother too, things that made his blood boil and his face burn with rage.

_clementineme:__ Are you people serious? Whoever is supporting this stupid Ginko kid doesn't have half a brain! People like him are responsible for tons of deaths, and he's getting respect for openly mocking the authorities! Oh, and then there are the idiots moaning about the 'poor children' that DON'T EVEN EXIST! They weren't even in the official footage and all your conspiracy theories are getting annoying! These stupid Ginkos deserve every last thing that's coming to them, kids without any common sense are no different!_

Just as he was about to shut his ipad off, disturbed by the things he was seeing, Tadashi found a video. It was encrypted, much to the irritation of multiple people, but the label took a firm hold of his determination; _BONEHEAD. _With the outdated tech in his lap it took a while but he was eventually able to crack the code and watch the video. It was short but that didn't matter to him.

The face of a man somewhere in his mid-twenties filled the screen, bushy orange hair curling this way and that as though it hadn't been brushed for days. He had a somewhat chubby pale, Irish, face, and a shell necklace. He had turquoise size 0 gages in each ear and a few piercings cut through his left eyebrow.

"Okay," he said, "So, Hido goes ou', yah?" the young man looked up, camera shaking beneath him as he walked through a doorway, "an' af'er, like, an _hour_ 'e comes bock. All drenched an' soakin' an' shit an' dere's blood comin' out 'is hand."

The door clicked just behind him and a familiar voice called to the man from the background, "Marcus, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

He turned his head, the clatter of objects sounding among various other noises in the distance, "Ah, hol' on Mag!" Then Marcus kept walking, "So, anyway, we's all wonderin' woh 'e was up to, yeh?" Then, quite abruptly the camera flipped around and displayed a small kitchenette with a familiar figure digging through a cupboard. He looked to be about 5'5, maybe 5'7- it was hard to tell. A white towel was draped around his shoulders and his hair stuck out a little wildly, evidence of being towel-dried. He wore a baggy white T-shirt with a small _ninjogo _logo on the back that Tadashi almost immediately recognized as his own and dark gray sweat pants with the SFIT logo draped down the side of the right leg. "'n 'e tells us 'e was protetin' some kids!"

At the sound of Marcus' voice the figure turned around and Tadashi had to do a double take, replay, and pause it on his little brother's face because _woah. _A pang of loneliness was struck within him as he absorbed every detail. Hiro's face had grown out, the chub in his cheeks mostly gone to reveal a sharper jaw line and more defined cheekbones- though it was still clear he had some growing left to do. His nose and mouth didn't seem quite so large in accordance to the rest of his face anymore and his big eyes had thinned too. There was the faintest trace of order to his hair as it swept to the side with a rebellious lock sticking straight up on the right side of his head and it wasn't so long that he couldn't see his ears anymore either. In fact, because Hiro's head wasn't mostly thick, mused, chaotic locks of disheveled hair Tadashi was able to see the piercings in his ear. A scowl came across his face as he examined the two rings stuck through the upper cartilage of Hiro's ear but he was at least relieved to see his brother had no other jewelry stuck in his head. His Adams apple had become more defined as well.

Tadashi's little brother casually observed Marcus with a piece of buttered toast sticking out of his mouth, eyes half lidded and a bandage wound around his hand as it kept the bread steady as he chewed.

"Now 'e's just in 'a kitchen," the Irishman continued, "M'akin' 'imself some bread!"

Hiro blinked and reached for a steaming mug as he swallowed his first bite, "What?"- oh geeze, his voice was lower too- "I'm hungry."

"Wot kin' of person almost ge's _shot _'n then makes 'imself some _bread?!"_

"Well, me, for starters," his younger brother stated, "besides, I wasn't going to let those kinds get hurt." A part of Tadashi burned for more solid information on what happened two days prior- ached to call his little brother and demand an explanation. By this point, however, it was becoming clearer that _some_one had been in the church behind him and he'd been protecting them. Hiro wouldn't just stand in front of any random building and risk death for no reason, right?

Right?

Tadashi bit his lip and tried not to think how little he really knew about his brother now.

A hand suddenly swept before the camera, tearing it away from Marcus' grip, "alright, that's enough, you cinephile. Let's turn this off-"

"No, wa-" then the video ended and Tadashi was left in silence.

For a long moment he stared at the dark screen, contemplating. Then he pulled up the calendar and read the date;

_November, 18. _

Thanksgiving was 9 days away.

A small smile tugged at his lips, _what if…?_

* * *

><p><em>*<em>xiāo dì_: Basically the Chinese honorific for younger brother. (Thank you, Fonlover, for your help!)_

_*stumbl = pretty much tumblr. _

_Thank you to:_ narniac4aslan, Dreaming3Write, and clementineme _for your contributions to this chapter's internet ramblings. If you have sent me comments that are not shown in this story that means they will show up later._ _(No, sweeties, not a story, just a quick comment on how you _think_ about what's going on. If you're still confused send me a PM.)_

_My computer's gone and done something weird, if you guys notice anything strange let me know. _

_Cheers!_

* * *

><p><em>Update: *whispers* hey, hey, guys, guess what? <em>

_I don't know a lick of: Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Mandarin, etc. I've got a bit of Spanish and various African languages (__Kidogo tu!) __but other than that I'm about as fluent as you may expect a rock to be. I understand everyone is trying to help but if you want to give me a review based entirely on the inaccuracy of my language use PLEASE just PM me! _

_You wanna know something else? (This is why I had that warning put in at the start of chapter one _that you were supposed to read._)_

_I have never: a) visited London. b) ever even been in England. c) taken a political science class. d) never actually been in a riot. Please go easy on me here, I'm learning everything through research and we all know how reliable the internet can be sometimes!_

_Ok, good, you read it. Thanks. :)_


	5. Tortures of Societal Warfare

_Warning: __**(probs should **_read _**this one) **__Chapter rating is _**M **_for torture, language, and mild adult themes. I'm expecting this to be one of the most violent chapters of the fic, so watch out. If there are any more, or if things do get more aggressive than this I will have to up the rating and I don't want to do that._

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><p>-Chapter 5-<p>

-Tortures of Societal Warfare-

_[4:58 PM]_

_[London]_

Hiro kept his head down and pretended to look over miscellaneous things on his phone, keeping the men to his far right in his peripheral vision as the train rocketed through the subway. The larger had a turquoise beanie and the shorter had his hood up but that's not what made them recognizable to the young teen. No, it was the neckerchief around the smaller one's neck and the beard on the other's face.

Upon reading the message Gabby left him Hiro had quickly begun making his way to the bus stop, now very much aware that he was being followed. The possibility struck him that his classmate had something to do with the men who'd been following him around for the past half hour and his heart twisted at the possibility of her betrayal. There weren't a whole lot of reasons for doing so, but that didn't mean he couldn't think up a few and none of them were pretty.

He'd decided to skip over his regular stop once he'd entered the tube and boarded his train, not wanting to lead these troublesome gangsters to the dorms where they could cause more mischief. Hiro had no doubt there were more of them- probably from the same bushel he'd seen hovering around the elevators in the biotech building- waiting for updates.

It wasn't until the sixteen-year-old college student stepped off the train 3 or 4 stops past his usual one that the guy with the red neckerchief pulled out his cell and tapped nimbly across the screen. Both men waited a moment, talking quietly, and then slipped off the train behind him after the message was sent. They dipped into the bustle of evening traffic behind him, weaving in and out of sight periodically. It became apparent to him that they'd done this before, enough times to have become confident in themselves.

It was probably habit that led his feet to quieter streets, choosing isolation when he was unable to shake them off his tail after several minutes. He pushed on as the skies above began to darken, his lucky quartz stone rolling between his pocketed fingers as he strolled over old cobblestone pavement.

As he continued walking the clouds overhead got thicker and the posse behind him grew larger. By the time Hiro reached more rural, tamed streets, there were about 4 men prowling behind him.

It was pretty obvious by this point that the sanguisugent hoodlums wanted to kill him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket but he ignored it and glanced up as rain began to fall. A few meters in front of him was an alleyway that he decided to take advantage of. He'd been walking for roughly a half an hour now and none of the men behind him had sent any messages for about 16 minutes- meaning there likely wasn't any more of them that needed to catch up. His plan was to take advantage of one of London's many deep, throaty alleyways and let them corner him if he could. Then he'd spring them, knock them out, and leave.

But that's not what happened.

He was on his way to the end of the street, passing a cluttered line of apartment buildings when he was struck unprepared passing by a dark, somewhat hunched complex. The experience was cinematic;

A large hand probably the size of his head alone shot out of the gloom beside him and wrapped around his mouth. Hiro hardly had time to gasp before his followers approached and quickly scooped him up, pinning his arms and legs. In one collective movement they hauled him up the stairs and into the intimidating piece of agriculture to his left. Confusion swirled through the teen as a wooden door was slammed shut and the uninteresting blur of far off ceiling tiles interrupted by a lattice work of pipes thrumming in conflation rushed past him. He'd not been expecting this. He wasn't used to the territory in London- how could he not of hypothesized this possibility?!

_-Wait, _he paused, finally noticing the lack of décor and the sheer height of the ceiling above him. If this was an apartment complex, where were the other stories? What were all these pipes for?

Hiro wasn't given any time to figure it out as he was thrown forward, head bashing against dry wall and a grunt of pain uttered briefly from his throat. Before he could bring his hands up and cradle his aching skull his vicious captors were grabbing his wrists and locking their arms around his own. The teen thrashed, shouting through clenched teeth and kicking out wildly against them as his head pulsed.

"Oh, no you don't," rumbled an adenoidal voice. The calloused hand from before smacked against his face, cupping his mouth and forcing his head back so his neck was fully exposed. "Keep his head there, Eli." Eli- the man holding his right arm- grabbed a fistful of Hiro's hair and gave it a firm tug, twisting it harshly to silence him. It didn't do much good, however, as the muscled teenager just proceeded to thrash even harder.

"Don't break my ginko, you alcatotes," a smooth, confident, silky voice warned from out of sight.* At this point there were four men on top of him, holding his arms and legs down as perhaps two others mingled about the room. With his head forced back Hiro had no hope of seeing how many there were and his heart raced wildly in his chest.

He no longer had control of the situation and his chances of escaping were only continuing to dwindle. Now he wished he'd told Chess or one of his roommates he was in trouble when he was still in the subway.

"Keep 'im still," another, younger voice commanded. Someone separate had to grab his head and force it still as they tied a moldy, dirty, salty piece of old fabric around his face. When he refused against all odds to open his mouth they pinched his nose shut and waited. By the time Hiro was arching his back, unclenching his jaws and sucking in a breath of fresh air there were spots dancing across his vision. The gag was quickly shoved into his mouth, their collective grunts of struggle echoing in the chamber of the faux building. "Easy, hold him- don't let him go."

Panting Hiro wondered if this is what horses felt like when they fought to remain unbroken.

He was bent back, someone's knee pressed against his spine, sweat beginning to roll over his skin as his reserves of energy depleted and the jackets he wore became stifling.

"Ok, ok, give him a chance to breath."

His shoulders stiffened and tried to rise compulsively with every inhalation he took, chest rising and falling, pushed out like it was on display. His Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, and he grunted, trying to yank an arm free in a futile attempt. They'd tied the gag so tightly that the knot caught locks of his hair and pulled unkindly against his flesh, giving him a headache.

It was quickly becoming apparent to Hiro that he was to be stuck in this vulnerable position for the inevitable future ahead of him. He'd have to hope they expressed patience and tried to kill him slowly. Maybe they'd even fill the silence with exposition too. With enough time he could figure this out, he could adapt, and make a grab for freedom.

And yet, given the way they were forcing him to pull out his chest he wasn't so sure he should nurse any hope. Other men in the smelly, cool, damp room were panting too and he could feel their bodies held against his own.

One huffed, "for such a small bloke 'e sure as shit can throw one 'elluva wobblah."*

"Oh, stop your whinging, Charlie," another, older male said. Though, he was also out of breath. "And would you drop the bloody accent already? Christ!"*

"Alright boys, stop dawdling and get in the game," there was the sound of someone being whacked and laughter from at least 3 separate individuals around him, "This ginko isn't gunna skin 'imself!"

Hiro tensed up, listened to the sound of feet shuffling across the concrete floor, the whisper of sliding switch blades, the hum of the power substation around him. He could smell mold, rot, and the unsavory stench of blood and hydrogen peroxide. Now that things had settled somewhat he realized he was in one of those faux buildings that littered London. They hid away power facilities and urban ventilators from the public eye, keeping the city looking nicer and less interrupted by industrial designs. Though he couldn't see much of the room around him the height of the ceiling, the pipes zigzagging this way and that accompanied by the heartbeat of a humming machine told him all he needed.

He could see the men restraining his arms but no further than that.

"Devin," a cool voice called from out of sight and the fingers in his hair twitched before tightening. Hiro grunted as the speaker continued, "Eli, have you two got a good hold?"

"Yeah," both men said in unison, griping him a little more firmly anyway.

"Charlie, Garris," the young captive rolled his eyes forward, trying desperately to see who was speaking, "how's he feel?"

"Not goin' anywhere soon, sir," said who he assumed was Garris.

"Seems we're all set, then."

Chills worked up Hiro's spine as the sound of approaching feet glided quietly towards him. He had to strain to focus on the sound, trying not to confuse the distance between them. It was as obvious to him as a lion was to a gazelle that this man was the real predator.

He was the one in charge.

He was the one with the biggest teeth.

He was the one who got the first bite of the pack's next meal.

Hiro readied himself, feeling his phone continue its insistent buzzing in his pocket. Whoever was trying to get a hold of him must be desperate because this was the fourth call in just as many minutes. Thankfully, no one seemed to care about it.

"So this is the one," the smooth man hummed from _way _closer than Hiro had expected him to be, "who stopped our precious military from doing their job." His heart froze in his chest and plummeted to his stomach. The teen's fists tightened and he clenched his jaw around the cloth gag in his mouth. Every inch of his body tensed up, stilled, _listened _because if this man recognized him from that then he was as good as dead.

It was hotter than before, his layers were too thick. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his neck.

"Yeh, Baby Gabby gave us confirmation," someone laughed from out of sight.

"And you're sure she spoke the truth, Charlie?" Hands reached out and straightened Hiro's crumpled collar. He tried to jerk away but the firm human shackles around him held the teen still. Energy soared through the young hero when his captor emitted a predatory chuckle.

This was just getting worse and worse.

"Trust me, Mr. Blythe," Garris chuckled from his station against their captive's right leg, "Given the position we had her in she wasn't about ta lie."

Hiro could feel Blythe's eyes rolling over him, checking out every inch of flesh that was exposed before pressing a hand against his chest. A hum buzzed out of the older man's throat before he did something so completely unexpected his captive thrashed and emitted a gargled squawk of surprise.

He tore through his clothes.

Blythe ripped through the zipper of his first jacket and flipped open a knife so quickly Hiro hardly caught the sound before it was tearing down the front of his hoodie. Almost before he knew it all that lay between him and the psychopath bent on cutting him open was his shirt.

"Mmph!" he snarled, wriggling wildly, fruitlessly.

"Thrash all you want, little ginko," Blythe breathed slickly, grabbing the collar of his shirt and tucking the knife into the fabric at the center. Then with one sweeping, downward motion, he cut that open too and there was nothing left to protect Hiro's chest. It pumped up and down with each desperate pant, muscles flexing and rippling along his well-built chest, the air chilling against his sweat-slick skin. "Spread him," Blythe spoke like a surgeon asking for his next tool.

Hiro clenched his teeth as they pulled his head back farther, spread his arms, kneed his back, forced him to arch until his bones popped and cracked with the strain.

They were really, truly going to gut him.

Fear pulsed through his body, adrenaline soaring underneath his flesh. A slender, warm palm curved over his Adam's apple, fingers snaking around his throat. There was a clicking sound from a ways away, sort of like a button was being pressed.

"Dimitri," the deep, heavy, adenoidal voice from before rumbled, "camera's set and rolling."

The hand on his throat peeled away for a moment as its owner turned to see, "ah, perfect. What number is this again, Colton?"

"The fourth to be gutted."

Blythe hummed again and stepped closer, "but the lot of us have had 13 total so far, haven't we?" Despite his aches, the creaking of his bones, the way his muscles continued to spasm and lock up painfully in fits caused by the strained position Hiro continued squirming.

"Yes."

Snorting he tried to turn his head only to have it yanked back so hard his neck cracked and a burning sensation ripped through his tendons.

"Sssh," Dimitri Blythe hushed, massaging his victim's shoulders with his hands, "Take it easy. Vivisecting you is going to be hard if you wriggle too much." Hiro swallowed, the palm on his throat bobbing with the movement. Energized fear clouded his veins, snapped through his brain like electricity, heart palpating frantically in his chest and his eyes growing wide.

_What… did he just say…? _

The others laughed.

_They're going…_

Hiro's phone buzzed.

_To dissect me…_

Rain drummed against the roof.

…_alive?!_

"Ready to get what you deserve, ginko?" The cold, sharp, gripping edge of a knife caught the flesh at his collar bone and slowly moved down before he could prepare himself. He clenched his teeth around the gag as hard as he could, fighting against impossible odds to regain his composure and _think _before the blade sunk so deep that his mind became dominated by pain. It seemed, however, that Dimitri wanted to drag the experience out and the first line he made started thin.

"Excuse me, but you're only my 4th victim so I'm still not perfect at the whole _gutting thing_," the blade cut a little deeper and the Japanese-American tensed, thinking, _here we go. _"My finesse with a knife could use a little work, even though I'm studying to be a surgeon." Hiro tried to block him out and focus on an escape plan, previous experiences telling him that the opportunity cost of listening in a situation like this was a waste. However, he'd never been tortured this way before and the motion quickly went from being like getting a paper cut to something a little more intense. It pricked his senses, cut delicately into capillaries under his flesh, started to sting, and then started to _burn. _Alarm bells in his head rang and adrenaline pumped through his veins. "Don't worry though, no-one will care very much in the end."

Then he pulled the blade out before tearing it vertically down his abdomen. Hiro's muffled, barely contained scream of pain curdled the thick, blood thirsty air. He was struggling to recover, reign in his senses, and think through the blood pounding in his ears as roars of encouragement erupted around him.

"You took my little sister from me," Dimitri almost snarled at him above the sound of his comrades, tightening his grip around his victim's neck. "You took my mum!" The blade was pushed into the opposite side of his collar bone and slowly, roughly dragged down until it met in conjunction with the first and second marks in the middle of his upper torso. Hiro gasped, more pain joining the first as he felt his flesh part, warm blood roll down his skin, and the blade trail back up to his other shoulder a second time. Struggling, a feeble thought sprung to mind and he fought to free his arms.

If he could just reach his phone…

"You _deserve _to be stripped and tortured like the ginko swine you are!" Sweat rolled into the fresh wounds with a sharp stinging sensation and he growled as Dimitri began carving through the lines he'd already made, rebiting the wounds. "My 5-year-old little sister," his captor's voice shook, hands trembling against Hiro's flesh, "burned _alive _because of _**you!**_"

"_Carve 'is heart out!"_

"_Make him scream!"_

"_Show him what our pain feels like!"_

It was then that the crazed man struck him in the chest with his other fist, overcome by his own emotions, his own despair and contempt and desire to cause more pain yet restrained by the savage longing to slowly vivisect his victim. He hit Hiro so hard he felt as though he should expect to see a hoof print left behind, left bruised and breathless by the blow. Despite the pain, however, the move was ultimately what provided him with his escape.

His shackles weren't prepared to absorb the hit and Hiro was thrown backwards against the wall. His head was smashed awkwardly and his feet scrambled to find purchase on a floor swathed with legs, hands, arms, and various plush bodies. He shoved his remaining free hand into his pocket and frantically jabbed a finger into the # button, smacking his heels against the ground as he did so. There was a whirring sound before a violent gust of air ripped from out of his sneakers.

People shouted with surprise, rage, and confusion. Tossed farther back Hiro's face slammed into the dry wall and an uncomfortable nasally ache seared through his skull.

With small compulsive tears in his eyes he scrabbled against the wall. He turned his head up, snaps and cracks rolling out of his bones. The teen caught sight of the figures fighting to reach him, feeling their fingers on his legs like talons and sticky tentacles. He didn't take any time to analyze their faces and angled his feet. Hiro was propelled up and to the side in a diagonal movement, narrowly avoiding grasping fingers that reached for his arms. Using the boost his modified sneakers gave him he tumbled right over one man's head, landing on the other side of him in a low crouch, and thrust out a leg. He swept it over the ground, feeling it collide with a few shins and unsteady legs. Several colorful oaths leapt from their lips as 2 men were felled with the sweeping motion, heads cracking painfully against the ground.

Hiro leapt up and flew back as the short one with the red bandanna raced towards him. Pressing a button on his phone he deactivated the thrusters and landed solidly on the ground. Then he reached out and grabbed the short male by the front of his shirt with one hand, gripping his belt buckle with the other, and hauled him right over his head. The runt slammed against the upper wall behind him, breaking his nose on an aluminum pipe before crumbling to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The two others he'd toppled were steadily rising, the bespectacled one pulling out a 6 inch serrated hunting knife while his bearded friend fumbled with the catch to his jeans. Meanwhile, an even larger fellow- whom Hiro assumed was Colton- unsheathed a glock as he ripped off the back of his cell. He had to set it between his teeth, grab a pipe overhead, and ram his feet into the large man's chest before Colton could fire off any rounds, however.

As he stumbled back the young teen dropped down and peeled off a strip of thin material from behind his cell phone's battery. It was sticky and underneath the thin film wrap was a malleable chip. Hiro wasted no time in slapping it on behind his right ear, dodging underneath a swinging fist and rapidly typing in a code across they keypad of his phone. It was as a soft buzzing began to ripple through his invention that he caught sight of the only one yet to join the scuffle.

A few meters away was a thin figure with short, lackluster brown hair smoothed over his skull. His body was thin- maybe even a little lanky and he had large chocolate colored eyes that burned savagely into his own. He had a white shirt with an auburn leather jacket draped over it. His face was narrow and his chin sharp, angular, and fuzzy. More than anything, however, more than the straight back, royal posture, or the blood on his hands it was the look in the man's gaze that told him he was looking at Dimitri Blythe.

But then he was torn away as the battle continued and "supermodel" Eli rushed at him with his blade held out and one arm ready to pin the smaller student. Stepping to the side Hiro grabbed his wrist before he could pass him completely, twisted himself so his back was facing his attacker's chest, forced the man's hand upwards and then proceeded to elbow him in the armpit. An involuntary gasp rent itself out of the older student's throat and he fell. Using the blade to cut off his gag the young hero then thrust his weapon at Colton before he could ready his aim and shoot him.

Hiro was ready when the bearded man, Devin, finally freed the machete from his pants and raced towards him. Within moments he was in front of him and swinging the blade towards his neck. Nimbly, the younger ducked below his arm and as the weapon passed over his head he sprung back up. Thrusting out his arms he proceeded to slam both palms over either of the man's ears as hard as he could. The taller individual gave a pained shout, clenching his eyes shut and grimacing as he fell.

The neurotransmitter pad now active against his skull Hiro let his thoughts direct his feet. Colton was aiming at him with his glock, beady eyes narrowed, but by the time he was firing it his target was in the air and gliding towards the door. Ducking his head and covering it with his arms Hiro braced himself before slamming so hard into the aperture that it was thrown off its hinges.

He tumbled graceless and bloody onto the narrow street outside, hardly noticing the sharp bite of cold rain drops against his flesh as gunfire followed him out. As it had been before the roads were clear of savory people, a few homeless and early London rioters preparing for tonight's heists, pillages, and protests lingering along the narrow sidewalks.

His thrusters propelled him forward almost before he could compose himself and Hiro quickly began racing away from his captors, zipping up what he could of his jacket to conceal his oozing wounds. Throwing himself between two men blocking his path he gained some grace as they shouted obscenities at him and pivoted so he could glance behind him, urged by an instinct developed through years of fighting.

That's how he came to find Dimitri's tough figure standing at the doorway, arm held back, and the knife he kept fucking seeing held between his fingers. The way the light glinted off his eyes, danced across the blade, the ease of his posture and the cloth covering his face, spurred a wave of memories in his mind. As the blade was hurdled towards him images of an innocent Chinese woman being slaughtered in the unmentionable hours of the morning flashed through his mind's eye.

Energy swelled through him and with a gust of air he changed directions, water splattering this way and that, before disengaging and landing on the slippery pavement. No sooner than had his sneakers touched cobblestone did Hiro's hand flick upwards and catch the knife before it could embed into his throat. For a cinematic moment he stood in the rain, a few brave stragglers watching in awe as he stared down their district's infamous ginko butcher with more power than anyone could have imagined a 16 year old having in his gaze alone.

13.

13 people had been tortured and ripped apart and he'd _watched as _Blythe murdered a regular Chinese woman without so much as a _thought. _

Now might not be the right time to show this infandous British monster just how many shades of pain there were in the world, but in the length of time that the two glared at each other Hiro was sure to get his message across before he turned and skated away on his air thrusters with Dimitri's goons hopelessly skittering after him.

_You're going to regret what you've done._

* * *

><p><em>*Alcatote: simpleton, an oaf (according to Paul Dickenson's book of Words.)<em>

_*British slang for: Tantrum_

_*British slang for: whining_

_Hahaha, I don't know what I'm doing~ _ᕕ(◉▽◉)ᕗ

_For the sake of time and for lack of any direct, lucid plotline thus far I need to temporarily postpone updates for this story. It should only take a few months before I can come back. Right now school and work are my main priorities and I simply do not have the time to tackle a story like this at the moment. _

_Thanks for reading thus far, see you in a few months. :)_

_Cheers!_


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